


Counting Stars

by panicparade



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:17:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panicparade/pseuds/panicparade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a broken car and sudden stop at a bakery Harry just might start believing in fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Knowmefirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knowmefirst/gifts).



> Originally posted [here](http://hd-owlpost.livejournal.com/77544.html) for the 2014 HD_OwlPost Winter Fest. 
> 
> Dear knowmefirst, I was so excited to see Non-Magic!AU listed amongst your likes! Unfortunately I’m incapable of writing good smut but I’m pretty sure that at some point they do have wall sex. :D Much love and thanks to digthewriter for fixing the silly mistakes I refuse to stop making and this_bloody_cat for her support and awesome advice! :) ♥

Harry doesn’t believe in fate, chance or karma. It’s not real. You  _make_  your own fate, it’s your choices and your decisions that influence your life and not random chances that can choose your life for you.   
  
At least, that’s what he believed in until the day his car broke down on a cold, winter afternoon.   
  
He’d been on his way to a Christmas party as his best friend’s house, the one afternoon of the year when he took a break from running his company to relax and spend time with his friends. Of course that would be the day when his car would decide to stop working in the middle of nowhere.   
  
“The mechanic will be here in thirty minutes, sir.”   
  
Harry sighs in annoyance and steps out of the car; there’s no way he’s going to sit inside and wait. He blinks against the flurry of snow and spots a sign around the corner, “I’ll be there,” Harry says and makes his way towards the café.   
  
The warm and aroma filled air of the café hits him as soon as he enters, making him take in a deep breath to savour the smell. The warmth inside brushes away the last holds of the winter chill and makes him sigh in delight. The café is small, but cosy without appearing cluttered. There are sofas placed around the room and he makes his way towards one near the roaring fire, imagining all his nieces and nephews playing around the fireplace right now, waiting for their Uncle Harry to bring them even more gifts. Hermione would frown at the number of gifts he’d bring, and Ron would laugh while clapping his back.   
  
Harry frowns and checks his watch, there’s still twenty five minutes before the mechanic would get there, probably even more if the worsening weather had any say.   
  
The café is empty. No one else is inside but him and he’s wondering if it’s closed when he hears a sharp curse of annoyance and someone comes running out, dressed in a Chef’s whites. “I thought I heard the bell ring!” The man looks harried, with a dash of flour on one cheek and his toque almost falling off, spilling white hair all over a pale face.   
  
“I’m sorry,” the man says as he rummages in his pockets for something, the toque tipped precariously. Harry wants to reach out and straighten it. “Pansy just  _had_  to rush out for something and Blaise never came in!” The man continues, ranting like Harry knew who this Pansy and Blaise were. “Of all the days, you’d  _think_  the day before Christmas they would stay here, but  _no_!” He  _aha’s_  triumphantly on finding a pen in a pocket, “I never should have hired my friends to work for me. Now, what can I get you?” he asks and finally,  _finally_ , looks at Harry, his hair falling into his eyes.  
  
Harry swallows and clears his throat; he wonders if he’s maybe sitting a little too close to the fire, his face feels oddly warm. “A hot chocolate, please.”   
  
The man writes it down on his tiny little note pad and Harry is acutely aware of how long and thin his fingers are, how they wrap around the pen.   
  
The man nods, making the toque finally fall off, “Anything else?”  
  
Harry shakes his head and refrains himself from reaching out and brushing the flour off the man’s cheek.  
  
“I’m Draco, by the way,” the man introduces himself and bends down to pick up his toque and jams it onto his head. He holds his hand out, “Chef, server, cashier  _and_  owner of this little dump of a café.”  
  
Harry smiles and shakes his hand, “I’m Harry, and I like your café.”  
  
“You’re only saying that because you don’t have anywhere else to go.” Draco laughs, “But it’s okay, we’ve just opened and I know there’s a lot that's left to do.”  
  
Harry glances out the window and sighs at the heavy swirl of snow outside, covering everything in a layer of white.   
  
“Are you in a hurry to be somewhere?” Draco asks, watching him look out the window.   
  
Harry scowls at the snow, “I don’t think I’ll be able to make it in this weather.”   
  
To his surprise Draco smiles and claps his hands, “Excellent! Do you know how to sieve flour?”  
  
Harry frowns in confusion and shakes his head.   
  
Draco nods and pats Harry on the arm before moving towards the back of the café, “That’s okay. I’ll teach you. As long as you’re here, you have to help me.”   
  
“I have to?” Harry asks in amusement as he shakes off his coat.   
  
“Definitely!” Draco states, gesturing for Harry to follow him, “I’ll make you a deal, you help me and I’ll make you a hot chocolate.”  
  
“But I  _ordered_  one!” Harry says incredulously, pointing towards Draco’s tiny notepad.   
  
“Really?” Draco asks and flips through the notepad, showing to Harry. All pages are blank but one that has a phone number written on it, Draco tears out that page and hands it to Harry. “I don’t have any orders here, but you can have this. I’m free on Friday.”  
  
Harry pockets the page, making Draco smirk.   
  
“Now, come on, there’s a lot to do.”   
  
Harry takes a moment to text Hermione an apology and a promise to be there for breakfast the next morning before he follows Draco to the back.   
  
Maybe  _there is_  such a thing as fate. 


End file.
